


You'll Get Out of Here, I Promise

by orphan_account



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: Angst, Broken Bones, Character Death, Death, Gen, Injury, Kidnapping, Weapon use, battle for the angst crown, legendofgrump on tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-07-27 08:17:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7610581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two guns. Two guys. One lives. One dies. So, let's see how much Arin and Dan really love each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You'll Get Out of Here, I Promise

**Author's Note:**

> This is my offical entry for the championship round of Battle For The Angst Crown that legendofgrump on tumblr created. Check 'em out! Also if you wanna follow me (i-am-avacado) on tumblr then maybe you should do that too. Also the other entries on tumblr for @smallsisthrowingawayhershot and @awkwardarin are things you should check out too. Enjoy! Or don't.

Dan first remembered the smell of mildew. It seeped into his nostrils and slowly urged him awake. It had felt like years since Dan had been aware of his own consciousness. He felt the ground, cold underneath him. But it was steady. No longer swaying and fluid like it was for so long.

Dan opened his eyes, slowly and carefully. He didn't want to get dizzy and puke, or see something to make him want to puke. Assuming there was still something in Dan's stomach TO puke up. It had been ages since he'd eaten. Sometimes, he'd skip a meal or two to give himself an edge, but at this rate, his stomach burned and his throat was all kinds of dry and he was so weak and tired. The days of regular meals seemed like years ago. How long had it actually been? A week? Maybe two? Dan can't really remember, let alone account for the days when he'd been asleep. 

His eyes were met with a dim light coming from a single flickering bulb hanging in the middle of the room. It was the only source. 

He didn't want to move. He could feel the stiffness in his muscles before he even moved them. He was in the fetal position right now, but if he had been laying like this for as long as he thought, moving would be near impossible. 

He decided to test it anyway. One molecule at a time. 

Dan started with his fingers, slowly opening and closing his fists. They cooperated with him. Then he started moving his arms. They were less willing to move, but he forced them to. Slowly, so slowly. He placed his palms on the ground and pushed himself up. He only made it a few inches before a sharp pain in his elbows made him fall again, cheek landing on cold cement. 

Dan looked down at his legs, hoping they wouldn't be so stiff to the point of not moving. Though, upon looking at them, he gagged. He closed his eyes and looked away, unable to take the sight of them in anymore. 

They were bent in all the wrong ways and all the wrong places. Swollen, purple, numb, the marks of the hammer clear against his legs. Dark purple circles traced his skin, reminding him once again what a shithole he had fallen into. 

If Dan ever got out of here, he would be a cripple.

Around his left ankle was clasped an iron cuff. Dan followed the chain that lead off of it with his eyes until he saw another cuff. It was attached to another disfigured ankle. 

Dan opened his mouth, trying to form his name.

"Arin," he said. Or tried to say. The sound that came out was more of a cracking squeak, as if he had swallowed sand. He tried again, pushing the air out of his throat. It scraped as it came up, like his own breath were made out of glass. 

"Arin." The second time was a little better. It was quiet though, barely audible by Dan's own ears. But it was his name.

Dan twisted himself more towards Arin, coercing his arms to be strong enough to prop him up into a sitting position. 

"Arin," he called a third time. This time, it was loud enough to echo against the brick walls. Loud enough that Arin should hear.

He didn't stir. Dan didn't want to admit where his mind first jumped to, but in this environment, he couldn't help it. His heart beat picked up a little.

"Arin?" He asked, a little louder. Arin didn't move. Dan swallowed, as much as he could swallow with his desert of a throat. 

One more time before Dan panicked. 

He summoned all the voice he had left, brows set. He was going to wake Arin up even if it hurt.

"Arin!" 

Boy, that did indeed hurt. Dan does not remember swallowing a bunch of needles. When he yelled, that's what it felt like. The pain, however, was worth it. Because much to Dan's relief, Arin moved the slighted bit. It only took five calls of his name. 

Arin woke as Dan had. Eyes first, fingers next, then the arms. He seemed though, to purposely avoid looking at his legs. He turned himself over and pushed himself into a sitting position on the first try. 

Arin locked eyes with Dan in the dull lighting. Neither of them said anything for a few minutes. Nothing but the sound of ragged breathing dominated the space between them. Then, slowly, surely, they dragged themselves towards each other.

The first thing they did when they reached each other was hug. No matter how weak Dan was, he hugged with all his might. Arin may be starving, sick, crippled and injured, but he's alive. 

Dan could feel Arin's hand reach into his hair, gently pushing his head closer as if the simple touch of him wasn't enough. He was stronger by nature, so he made up for Dan's lack of grip. If Dan could grasp onto Arin's shirt until he ripped through the fabric, he would. But he's so weak. 

Dan felt like he should be crying right now, but nothing came. Dan couldn't shed a tear to save his life. Instead, a stony cold feeling bled over his heart, somehow a worse feeling than crying would've been.

Once they pulled away and Dan saw Arin's face: bagged eyes and pale skin and prominent cheek bones, he knew that Arin felt the same thing. 

Fuck dude.

Arin tried to speak to Dan, but nothing came out at first. Dan was patient, waiting for his friend's voice to come back so they could talk about...

Talk about what? How to get out of here? It seemed pretty clear that neither of them were standing up any time soon. Family? What was the point in grasping at invisible straws? The show maybe? Reminiscing did nothing but bring pain.

"Dan," Arin finally said. His hands fumbled until they found Dan's, and they both held on as tight as they could manage.

"How are you feeling?" Dan croaked out. Arin gave a ghost of a smile.

"Fantastic. You?" Dan couldn't help but smile too. Even in this place, Arin still held that same old endearing sarcasm. 

"I feel like I got shoved in a washing machine." Arin cocked an eyebrow.

"What do you mean?" He asked. His voice had some of its strength back, even if it still sounded like it was scraping against sandpaper.

"I mean, it's all fuzzy. Not quite right." Dan could explain more, but felt too tired to continue. It felt like when you're sitting there watching the clothes swirl around in the suds. All the colors blend together and it sounds mushy and wet and smells a little gross if you get close enough. It's not where clothes are meant to be. It alters reality and everything isn't quite like it should be.

They shouldn't be here. They should be home. Arin should be giving Suzy a foot massage and then going off to pet Mimi. Dan should be ordering Chinese with Barry and promising once again that tomorrow they are all totally going to get together and binge Lord of the Rings. Then the next morning, they should be driving to the office, ready to record another session of Game Grumps. Then Ross and Barry can hook up for Steam Train. Maybe they could get Brian in on Grumpcade. That's how it should be.

Not this. With the two of them laying battered and broken on a cement floor, cold and alone. Even if they managed to get home, life would never be the same. 

But Dan didn't feel like explaining this. He didn't have the energy or the malice. Speaking of all that would do nothing but drive the knife in more.

Instead, he just whined. "I want to go home."

Arin's eyes dropped, unsure of what to say. What could he say? 'Me too?' Of course he wanted to go home. But they couldn't. Simple fact.

So Arin just fired back another unfillable request. "I'm hungry."

Dan opened his mouth to say something probably along the lines of 'I'm tired', but was cut off by a voice. It was deep, robotic, obviously disguised. Still, it was sinister.

"Finally awake I see, good. I was getting bored." 

Dan looked around to see where the voice was coming from, but no one was there. There was, however, a speaker attached to a corner of the room. 

"How cute. You're holding hands. It's almost like you love each other." There was a pause. "Or maybe you're scared."

Dan and Arin separated upon the condescending voice's observation. They sat close, but touching no longer. Dan could hear the voice scoff.

"Don't move away from each other on my behalf. Go ahead. Touch. Kiss. Blow each other. Do what you can before I get started."

Arin and Dan looked at each other, neither of them moving. 

"Fine then," the voice said, almost offended. There were a few undefined noises over the speaker, muffled commands. Then the voice came back. 

"Okay. So, here's what's going to happen. We're going to execute an experiment. Well, you two are."

Dan grew a pair before Arin did. "An experiment for what?" He asked. There was a little pause. Maybe the voice was surprised his hostages were willing to speak up. 

"You'll see," the voice said. The smile was easily heard in that statement, even with a voice changer. "Oh, by the way, my name is Chase."

Dan highly doubted that his real name was Chase, but he didn't question it. Instead, he asked another question. One that he had thought to himself the day he was swiped from his home and everything he loved. 

"Why are you doing this to us?"

There was a long pause after that one. A long silence that made Dan uneasy. After maybe two minutes of no reply, Chase finally answered.

"I had nothing else to do."

Dan looked at the floor. What else was he expecting? An apology?

"Look, I'm not up to explaining the how's and why's of everything," Chase continued. "You're here. You aren't going anywhere. And now that I have you, we're going to conduct a little test."

"What test?" Arin snapped. 

"A moral test." There was another pause. "Arin, how much do you love Dan?"

Dan visibly flinched at the mention of his name. This sicko knew his name. Well, a lot of people did. Hell, knowing his entire family history was only a google search away. But something about the way Chase said it. It was almost a show of power. I know your name and I control you.

It made him shiver. 

Arin made no hesitation in speaking up. "I love Dan like family. Probably more than you could love someone."

Chase only laughed. "We'll see. Dan, how much do you love Arin?"

In response to this, Dan reached over and grabbed Arin's fingers and gave them a squeeze. "I love him."

"Okay. Okay, fine. Good. This is good." Chase then turned away from his mic and sounded like he was calling for someone. Then he was back. "So, Dom is heading down to your room. After he drops off your gifts, the test will start. You'll have twelve hours to complete it."

Chase stopped talking. The speaker was still on though, the faint hum bouncing against the walls. 

Dan felt like he should say something, but he couldn't figure out what. His mind was swimming with a million thoughts, unable to hold onto one long enough to comprehend what it is before it jumped to the next one.

Arin, however, didn't feel like staying quiet. "Fucker," he mumbled to the air. "Sicko. Asshole freakshow prick. I hate him. I swear if I get my hands on him I'll kill him. I'll fucking kill him."

Dan felt a laugh being punched from him. "You won't get your hands on him. We're right under his thumb. We don't even know who he is."

"I'll fucking kill him."

"We're gonna die here."

Arin snapped to attention, looking at Dan. "What?"

Dan's voice came out emotionless. Bland. Stating facts. "We'll die in here. Chained together like dogs. No more Grumps. No more friends. No more anything."

Dan could feel his face being taken in Arin's hands. "Don't say that," Arin cooed. "We'll get out of here."

Dan shook his head. "No we won't."

"Dan, yes we will. I--I promise. You'll get out of here."

Dan felt nothing. Gray. Lifeless. "We're going to die."

Arin couldn't argue with him. They either made it home or they didn't, and right now, all the evidence was pointing to the latter. He simply pulled Dan in and held him tight. 

"I'm sorry," Dan whispered. Arin shook his head.

"It's fine."

"Are you two done?" Chase's voice rang loud over the speaker. He sounded annoyed. "Because Dom is here. Keep away from the door and if you move towards it, you'll both get shot. Open up Dom!"

Dan and Arin looked over to the door of the room. As if on cue, there was a sound of unlocking. The door creaked open, heavy and old. In the doorway stood someone who Dan assumed to be Dom. He was dressed in all black from head to toe, any telling features unable to be seen. He held a case in his hands. 

"Slide it over Dom," Chase said in a gentle, commanding voice. 

Dom did so, setting the case on the ground and using his heel to kick it over. The door then closes. 

"Open it," Chase demanded. Dan and Arin shared a look, and then they both reached down. They opened the case slowly, and inside...

There were two semi-automatic pistols sitting in protective foam. 

"The hell are these for?" Dan asked Chase.

"The test," he answered simply. "Each of you, take one."

No one moved for a while.

"Now!"

Dan gave a side glance to Arin, whose eyes were locked on the weapons. Taking in a breath, he picked one of the guns up. It was heavy and cold in his hands, the black metal glinting even in the dim light. His heart beat quickened, feeling the surge of power that came from holding such a deadly thing. It made him shaky. He immediately wanted to put it back, but he forced his fingers to close around it.

Arin held the other gun, more casually. He stared at the trigger of it, letting invasive thoughts push through his common sense as he wondered what he was supposed to do with it. 

"Alright," Chase started. "So you guys love each other right? Like brothers, like family, like whatever the hell you said. Okay, so let's see how much you actually love each other."

There was a pause. Dan and Arin looked at each other, seeing the fear in each other's eyes. 

"So here's what's gonna happen. One of you is gonna shoot the other. The shooter gets out Scott free and goes home. No consequences. The shootee, well, I think we can assume what happens to them." Chase snickered, a sound that said he was content with ruining lives. "There. There's your test. Pick one to die within twelve hours. If the twelve hours ends and one of you isn't dead, then both of you die. Also, if one if you decides to be humble and shoot yourself to save your buddy, then I'll just kill the other one and you'll both end up dead anyway. Time starts now."

The speaker then went dead.

~

"This is fucking nuts," Dan said, setting the gun back in the case. "I'm not shooting you Arin."

Arin set his gun down too. "And I'm going to shoot you, right?"

"You have to go home, Arin. You have a wife."

Arin looked at Dan as if he were insane. "And you have friends. Family. A life."

"So do you!" Dan shot back. "We both do! But it would be better for you to go home. People will get over me."

Arin reached over and grabbed Dan's shoulder, giving it a shake. "Do you hear yourself right now?" Dan stared at the ground. Arin shook harder, taking Dan's chin and pushing his head up to force his eyes to meet Arin's. "Are you listening to yourself?"

Dan jerked away from Arin, picking up the gun and shoving it in Arin's hands. 

"Yes I hear myself," Dan said. "Yes I know what I'm saying. I'm serious. One of us is getting out of here and I want it to be you."

Arin dropped the gun, the metal clack echoing against the walls. "And I want it to be you."

Dan threw his hands up in the air. "We're getting fucking nowhere."

They both were silent for a little bit. In that time, Arin reached over and put both the guns in the case, clasping it shut. He looked at Dan. "Do you wanna...sleep on it?"

Dan sighed heavily, not willing to argue any further. "Yes, I do." He lied down, making a pillow out of his arms as he layed on his back. He closed his eyes, hearing Arin shuffle into a comfortable position. Then he let his mind wander.

Dan didn't want to die. Of course not. But he didn't want Arin to die either. Arin had a life at home. He had a wife and lifelong friends and a company and so much happiness that he deserved much more than Dan did. Sure, Dan had friends. Family. But when he really thought about it, he's really burned out his potential. He was in a band, two of them. He woke up, made music, some dick jokes, and then went home. Arin though. Arin was capable of doing so much more. He could get somewhere, be somebody, start something. 

If Dan could lay here and just put Arin on a pedestal while simultaneously ignoring his own worth, it became increasingly easy to want Arin to make it out of here alive. 

So that's what he did. When his lids finally became heavy, his mind became set. 

He was getting Arin home whether he liked it or not. 

~

It didn't feel like long before Dan was shaken awake. He opened his eyes, feeling marginally more awake, but still shitty. He sat up.

"We don't have a lot of time," Arin said. Dan looked at him. His face was stone, forlorn. "Less than ten minutes. We shouldn't have slept."

Dan's throat immediately went dry. "Shit."

"Yeah. Shit." Arin reached over the case that held the guns. He opened it, taking one of the guns in his hands. He gave Dan the other one. The metal was still cold, powerful. 

"We have to do this now," Arin demanded. Dan's mind was swimming. Everything was happening too fast. He felt dizzy.

"Do what?" Dan asked dumbly. His question was answered by the weight in his hands. 

"We have to do this now," Arin repeated. Slowly, he raised his gun, the barrel pointed at Dan's chest.

In a swell of panic, Dan's hands shot up, aiming his gun at Arin too. He felt like a caged animal, his fight or flight response kicking in. But he couldn't take flight. So he held the gun up like a wall between him and Arin.

And he felt horrible immediately. He was aiming a gun. A loaded gun. At Arin. He let his hand fall, feeling tears burning at the back of his eyes.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean, I mean I wasn't gonna--" Dan clenched his eyes shut. "Just do it."

Dan braced for impact, accepting the fact that his best friend was going to kill him. But instead of a bullet, Dan felt a hand touching his chin. Dan opened his eyes. 

Arin's hand left his chin and held Dan's hand that held the gun. He guided it up so the barrel was pointing at Arin again. 

"What are you doing?" Dan asked.

Arin gripped the gun tight. "Together."

Together. 

That was it. That was the only choice they had. Dan couldn't kill Arin. Arin couldn't kill Dan. Who could live with the guilt? How could either of them go home knowing they had pulled the trigger on someone they loved with all their heart? But, neither of them wanted to be killed by the mystery man, Chase. So what else was there?

Swallowing their pride and dying together.

Dan's voice came out shaky. "On three?"

Arin nodded. His face was eerily sober, eyes distant and gray. He didn't even look like Arin anymore. He looked like he was already dead. "One," he said.

Dan blinked, and a few drops fell from his eyes and ran down his cheek. "Two."

They both closed their eyes tightly. The gun shook in Dan's hands.

Arin breathed in, letting it out in a hiss. "I love you Dan."

That feeling of coldness that wrapped around Dan's heart gripped tighter. He felt compressed, everything started getting fuzzy. It didn't feel real. 

"I love you too Arin," Dan said. Did he say it loud enough? He could barely hear himself over his own heartbeat pumping in his ears. 

Dan breathed in. 

His finger tightened over the trigger.

He breathed out.

His hands went still, the gun feeling like an extension of his arm. 

The fact disgusted him.

"Three."

~

There was a flash of light. A deafening boom. The recoil of the gun was enough to send Dan flying back onto the cement. He felt numb, ringing in his ears. His vision was fuzzy, the single lightbulb multiplying and shifting to the right and to the left. The entire room was spinning. Too bright. Too loud. Too cold. 

Dan sat up slowly, trying to focus his vision and make sense of where exactly he was. Where was he? In a room. Chained to Arin. They just shot each other.

Dan looked down at himself. His shirt was filthy, torn, stained and threadbare. But other than that, there was nothing.

He was alive. 

Oh no. Oh god.

Arin. 

Dan dragged himself over to Arin. He was splayed out on the ground, not moving. When Dan got up to him, he saw the defined hole square in the middle of his chest. The cloth around it was stained a deep crimson, spreading rapidly. Arin was still alive, his chest moving up and down in shallow breaths. His face was twisted into a grimace. Yet, his eyes were open, looking at Dan.

"Arin!" Dan screamed, tears falling like tap water. "Why did you not shoot? Why did you...? You fucking....asshole. Why would you?"

Arin just smiled. His genuine, amazing, irritating, full of love smile. "I t-old you...that--" he winced. "--you'd get out of here."

Dan reached down and grabbed Arin's hand. Arin squeezed back weakly.

"I'm sorry," Dan said, openly sobbing. He lied his head on Arin's chest, not caring that his hair was sitting in Arin's blood. He just wanted to listen to Arin's heartbeat. His ever-strong heartbeat that Dan took for granted. And it was slowing down.

"It's okay." 

They layed like this. Silent. Together. Dan felt Arin's grip weaken and grow cold in his hand. He could feel the moment when his heart finally stopped. When the steady beat that had gotten him through many a stressful day and many bear hugs went cold.

Dan didn't move. It was too quiet in the room and too loud in his head. If he moved one inch, he feared that he would grab the gun and blow his own brains out. He would rather be dead than lay here, on his friend who had gone still and gray. 

He would rather be dead than go home and explain what happened. How he murdered Arin and how everything would be different. How the show could never continue after this. How nothing will ever get back to normal because Dan just shot normal in the chest. 

A cackle was heard over the speaker.

"Oh man," Chase said. "That was great. I've never seen anything like that before."

Dan didn't reply. He wasn't even fully aware of anyone speaking. Chase didn't seem to notice.

"Truly fascinating. That friend of yours, Arin, he kept the safety turned on his gun. I did NOT see that coming! Man, and I had my money on him shooting you. Very interesting. Very good. Wow. Okay, well, Dom! Let him out! He won!"

Dan spoke barely above a whisper. "I won?"

"Yep, you won. You can go home now, no consequences. Hope you make it back alright!"

Dan just lied there, not moving, for however long before Dom came to pick him up. Literally. Once Dom got into the room, he had to lift Dan off the ground himself. Partly because of Dan's broken legs, and partly because Dan couldn't feel anything. Anywhere. 

He caught one more look at Arin before the door shut behind him, sealing in reality. Arin's eyes were open. They were gray. Dead.

Dom had to carry Dan like a baby as he walked down the hallway. "I'm going to drop you off at the hospital," he said. "They'll clean you up and you can go home."

Dan didn't reply. It took all his will to let himself breathe as it was. Dom looked down at him. His face was still covered by a mask, voice coming out muffled.

"You know I'm sorry about all this."

That caught Dan's attention.

"I watched your show. I never expected for you two to end up here. For this whole thing to happen. I'm sorry. But, you won. You can go home now."

Dom made it to the end of the hallway. He opened the door to reveal a parking lot. Dom started to walk to the only parked car there. 

Once Dom was in the driver's seat, and Dan in the back, all the doors automatically locked. Probably so Dan couldn't try and escape. 

"I'm sorry Dan. I know you guys loved each other."  
Dan looked at his feet, muted anger brimming in his chest. "Go fuck yourself."

The rest of the car ride was silent. During it, Dan thought. Processed what happened one step at a time.

'Me and Arin were on the way home from dinner. We were chased into an alley and drugged asleep. We spent a week or...or two weeks, I can't remember. We spent a while in a drugged haze, the both of us. We were dragged around in chains and blindfolds. They beat us into silence. They broke our legs with hammers. We woke up in a room together. We were told one of us had to shoot the other as a test. A moral experiment. I shot Arin. I shot him. He's dead. He died because I killed him.'

Dan felt nothing but cold. His heart was stone and his limbs were jelly. Nothing seemed real anymore. Everything was a weight pressing on his chest and he felt like he couldn't breathe. But he won. He won the game. He won the game and he was going home to his friends. His life. He won.

Somehow, Dan didn't feel like much of a winner.


End file.
